


No Orc Would Say That

by Illegible_Scribble



Series: 31 Days of Frodo/Sam, 2018 [15]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cirith Ungol, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt, Love Confessions, M/M, Mid-Quest, Smoochtober 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 16:19:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16308560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illegible_Scribble/pseuds/Illegible_Scribble
Summary: Frodo offers a profuse apology after Sam returns the Ring in Cirith Ungol, along with a profession that touches Sam's heart.





	No Orc Would Say That

**Author's Note:**

> Italics primarily denote Tolkien's original text in the Return of the King, with slight modifications.  
> Based ( _very_ loosely) on [this prompt](https://www.pillowfort.io/posts/132744) for Smoochtober 2018, #15: Enemies to Lovers Kiss.

_'But you're in the land of Mordor now, sir; and when you get out, you'll see the Fiery Mountain and all. You'll find the Ring very dangerous now, and very hard to bear. If it's too hard a job, I could share it with you, maybe?'_

_'No, no!' cried Frodo, snatching the Ring and chain from Sam's hands. 'No you won't, you thief!' He panted, staring at Sam with eyes wide with fear and enmity. Then suddenly, clasping the Ring in one clenched fist, he stood aghast. A mist seemed to clear from his eyes, and he passed a hand over his aching brow. The hideous vision had seemed so real to him, half bemused as he was still with wound and fear. Sam had changed before his very eyes into an orc again, leering and pawing at his treasure, a foul little creature with greedy eyes and slobbering mouth. But now the vision had passed. There was Sam kneeling before him, his face wrung with pain, as if he had been stabbed in the heart; tears welled from his eyes._

'Oh, Sam!' Frodo crumpled to the ground, like wood shavings consumed by flame. 'Oh, stars above, what have I done? I'm so sorry, Sam- I- my eyes betrayed me the truth I know in my heart. I know you're no such thing. The Ring- it,' Frodo's gaze fell to his open palm, where the remarkable band of gold lay, so perfectly smooth and unblemished, gleaming a tantalizing red in the scarlet lamplight.

Frodo blinked, struggling not to be overcome again by the dreaded thing. 'I let it show me a false illusion, and I saw you as a horrid thing that would take It from me.' he clenched his fist to hide the One, feeling a flood of frustrated anger surge through him. 'Curse It, and what I've let It do to me, and thus what I've done to you. I'm so sorry.'

Sam rubbed his sleeve across his eyes, offering a watery smile. 'It's all right, in the end. I'm here now, and I'll mind after you, no matter a sight of things that aren't there.' He unclasped his cloak from Lórien, draping it over Frodo's bare shoulders, and securing it snugly. 'And now we're getting a mite better, eh?' Sam was about to add that Frodo couldn't lark about long in naught but his skin, but lost his voice when Frodo placed a hand on his retreating wrist, stopping it.

'A mite,' said Frodo, 'but- I am so sorry, Sam. You've... you've stormed an orc tower for me, and when I heard you singing, and when you found me,' Frodo's eyes glittered with tears, and his touch on Sam's wrist became an iron grip, 'it was as though my heart had been trapped in an eternity of ice, and you finding me was the first spring and summer it had ever known. In this land of poisoned air and scourged earth, when you held me just now, was the happiest moment I've been given in my life.'

It had been a matter of instinct for Sam to raise his free hand, and begin wiping the tears and grime from Frodo's cheeks. Frodo leaned in to the touch, as if starved for such gestures of uncorrupted affection. 'Throughout all of this, you've been such a gift to me, and only now do I realize – after I've gone and done something so terrible – that you are a summer I would never wish to be parted from.' Frodo's shoulders had fallen, and he looked hunched and broken, but held still to Sam's wrist, and pressed desperately against his hand. 'You're beautiful, Samwise, and I'm so sorry I've become what I am.'

Sam had never been called beautiful, nor likened to a summer, in all his life – and certainly never by someone he adored so. He tried still to console Frodo, but sat weeping and dumb, his lips alternately quivering with emotion and struggling to turn upwards in a smile. 'What you are,' he grasped, 'is mayhap a bit worn for the wear – like a-' Sam had been about to say, 'ring', but stopped himself, 'one of old Mister Bilbo's silver spoons, like; a little tarnished at the moment, but nothing a bit of polish can't fix.

'Me? I'm only as is handsome when likened to an orc, maybe.' Frodo smiled feebly at this, and Sam knew his meek jests were a comfort, but only so much. 'And tarnish or no, and vision or no, I'm still staying with you. I done made a promise, didn't I? And who but a fool would go leaving you?'

'Oh, Sam,' Frodo wept anew, his tears trickling down Sam's hand – but only for a moment longer, because in the next they were clutching one another in a desperate embrace, ' _thank you_.'

Sam cradled him, rocking them gently to and fro, as a swirl of thoughts ran through his head; such as the urgency of time, the image of Frodo's skin wreathed in scarlet flame, and what Sam wouldn't have done for a hot bath, to soak Frodo's thin and ragged body in, back to a clean and healthy pink. He combed his fingers through Frodo's knotted hair, and began to hum again his tune – Frodo convulsed with sobs at the first few bars, but by the end he had stilled.

As before, Sam felt he could've stayed there in eternal happiness, but the pressure of their Quest and worry of more orcs coming grew heavier on his mind with each moment. By the end of his song, he gently set Frodo back – only enough to look at him face to face – and cupped his cheek again. 'Your Sam ain't never going to leave you, for he loves you so.' and he honored this truth with a gentle kiss to Frodo's mouth, at which the latter first stiffened at, before melting in to it. It was hard, but slow, and they tilted their heads this way and that to explore each angle and touch they could.

When they parted, Frodo's strength had returned to him, and though his burden was heavy, Sam knew he had braced himself to face the world. 'I love you as well.'

There was nothing more for it that need be said, but they rubbed noses a final time nevertheless, and Frodo even smiled. 'Now, your Sam just did fib a mite, as he's got to go down and look for something as we can both wear, and food if there is any, too.' Frodo nodded silently, and let him go to stand. 'Afraid that as we are in Mordor, it's going to be Mordor-fashion and food, all told, then we'll need to be moving on, quick as we can.'

_Unslinging his pack, he laid it on the floor, and drew Sting from its sheathe. 'I was forgetting this, Mr. Frodo,' he said. 'No, they didn't get everything! You lent me Sting, if you remember, and the Lady's glass. I've got them both still. But lend them to me a little longer, Mr. Frodo. I must go and see what I can find. You stay here. Walk about a bit and ease your legs. I shan't be long. I shan't have to go far.'_

_'Take care, Sam!' said Frodo. 'And be quick! There may be orcs still alive, lurking in wait.'_

_'I've got to chance it,' said Sam. He stepped to the trap-door and slipped down the ladder._

'I love you.' Frodo repeated – he intended to himself alone, but Sam's head soon reappeared with a smile, and carefully he threw a long knife upon the floor.

_'There's something that might be useful,' he said. 'He's dead: the one that whipped you. Broke his neck, it seems, in his hurry. Now you draw up the ladder, if you can, Mr. Frodo; and don't you let it down till you hear me call the password._ Elbereth _I'll call. What the Elves say. No orc would say that.'_

'No, indeed.' said Frodo, rising to pull up the ladder. 'Only the Elves, and you, dear Samwise.'


End file.
